A Pause for Breath

The events of the siege receded into our faltering memories as we licked our collective wounds. Pausing only to laugh at the GM’s apparently improper suggestions towards Sam, we girded our collective loins for the next phase.

Snorri meanwhile enjoyed a unique experience as he banished the chaos bane weapon from this plane via the trusty smithy. He emerged positively saturated in the reek of chaos, its very essence suffusing his soul and adding to the already foul doomstone stench that tainted his aura beyond repair. Still no obvious ill effects yet, could have been worse, he could have picked up a nasty mutation…*

*But stay tuned for more developments on this breaking story

The dark elf continued making herself popular, concealing and withholding information, destroying evidence concerning the location of the fourth doomstone whilst rolling sensuously in the waves of chaos emanating from the library’s top shelf publications. All the time protesting her innocence and expressing outrage at the unreasoning prejudice expressed by fellow party members who dared to raise any concerns at these matters.*

*Basically we’re talking about Digger here, whose concerns typically manifested as proposals that involved the expiration of M/S Oakshadow with official assistance

At least however, she conceded the wisdom of dispelling her zombie army before the High elf’s return from the north with his detachment of craftsmen, priests, troops and a new friend, one Owen McCall, who appeared to be an aspiring Lara Croft, but with nowhere near the talent.

Moving on from the site of our near demise, Digger bearing a somewhat dented Shafter that Klaus had done a botched repair job on, we tracked north to a nearby town where we proposed to shop till we were fully equipped.

The shopping centred on a mule and cart, followed by a mission to overload it completely. We topped up on rations, warm clothing and equipment, especially of the mountaineering and perhaps wisely, medical variety.

We were preparing for a journey into the unknown, if only because the wise old witch elf had thoughtfully burned the map clue in an insane moment.* The doomstone we now sought appeared to be set in an ancient dwarf king’s crown, and being the water stone was in the form of a pearl.**

*We appeared to be stretching on and on**Should be an easy one for Geoff to make then

Entombed with the king in the lost dwarven enclave of Gravening, the key word in this sentence appears to be ‘lost.’ We think that our objective lies somewhere to the south east,* definitely in the mountains and is located on a river, possibly the northernmost tributary or source of the great river that has run like an unbroken thread through our search for the stone, though it may only be accessible via an underground tunnel leading up from the south.